out of the mountains

there is a wider liberty we seek
and words are needed to express the fire
this world belongs to others than the meek

no force is halted at the summer creek
the water will not this time rise higher
there is a wider liberty we seek

your meaning's hidden by the words you speak
and we know you too well as just a liar
this world belongs to others than the meek

too long we find the answers just so bleak
and not the sort of tool that we require
there is a wider liberty we seek

good hope turns out to be one more technique
leaving us all bespattered in the mire
this world belongs to others than the meek

if there's a vision it's that of the freak
and not the one to which you should aspire
there is a wider liberty we seek
this world belongs to others than the meek

 

receipt of signals

 

those worthies fail to measure every clue
leaving unknown the line of our retreat
but not a one of us admits defeat
instead we turn and look upon the view
so much is left for each of us to do
that we must keep up the long steady beat
no one would claim that we'd commit deceit
but all we say now seems not quite so new
those answers come when we are said to sigh
not daring speech under the heavy grey
since each of us now fears that we are blind
but simple truths don't come from open sky
and honest fact is not just what you say
but what you are the rest comes in the mind

propaganda gap

 

they ask for harmony but give us none
all of their words come empty at the last
such symbols are most ancient under sun

this is not anything that is not done
by anyone who hopes to finish fast
they ask for harmony but give us none

a kind of fairy tale that has been spun
by those who hoped to leave us all aghast
such symbols are most ancient under sun

those messages another age had run
right down to earth but now we have contrast
they ask for harmony but give us none

we might expect a sharp blow that would stun
a normal mind or else some kind of blast
such symbols are most ancient under sun

what we get though is only half begun
and better left in dead rooms of the past
they ask for harmony but give us none
such symbols are most ancient under sun

repeated condemnation

 

those who forget the past are left to wait
for memories to fade and lights to die
it is as if we want to blind each eye

there is no thing we need as much as hate
no breath that counts as much as one great sigh
those who forget the past are left to wait

our lesser rules are coloured by stark fate
a matter that is hidden from the sky
by which we mean each word is just a lie
those who forget the past are left to wait